I had resolved to spend the evening with my family in Uptown Selma. Over the years I have been to several of our town's July 4th celebrations and enjoyed them. Last year I did not go since I had some friends in town from Canada. These folks had never been to an Independence Day celebration since they are from out of the country, eh? When given the option of going to the town's celebration or to the countryside to play with my personal fireworks collection, they opted for playing with fireworks rather than observing them.
There was quite a choice of Independence Day celebrations from which to choose in Johnston County. When other towns had to either cancel their celebrations because of budget reasons or because of contractor availability under new, stringent state regulation. Kenly had a celebration on the real Independence Day, July 2. Clayton had theirs on the 3rd. Selma had theirs on the 4th, and Smithfield on the 5th. I had fully intended to go to Selma's celebration, since it is within walking distance from my home and Selma is my hometown.
As fate would have it, I got stuck working that Sunday evening. I was hoping I would get home in time to see the fireworks with the family and only miss the festival activities. Instead, I got stuck working on a stubborn computer in the booming metropolis of Roxboro and did not get home until about 11 PM. While working in that little concrete building, I had a few select words about the situation that I certainly will not type here, and was in a very foul mood as a result. I really did not want to have to explain to a seven-year-old why I could not fulfill my promise to go to the Selma celebration and fireworks.
Nevertheless, we figured that we could easily slide over to Smithfield for their "half priced, day late" celebration. We were hoping for some good, happy family time. Boy, were we in for a disappointment.
I wish that the Continental Congress had declared independence from Britain in October or April instead of July. Maybe they were cranky in Philadelphia because of the high temperatures and discomfort of July, and declared independence then because of it.
Temperatures were sweltering in Smithfield. The gnats were something out of a Mosaic plague. We could not take a bite out of our high priced festival food without eating a gnat. There were only three vendors at the Smithfield event, so we ended up spending $18 for the worst steak and cheese sandwich I ever ate, a hamburger, a hot dog, an order of French Fries, and 3 drinks.
Since we were dumb enough to get there around 6:30 and the fireworks were not going to be "bombs bursting in air" until 9:30, we had plenty of time to promenade on the River Walk. That is, until my lovely wife got tired of the hike and wanted to turn around. Add to that one bored seven-year-old and a squirmy almost one-year-old, and you have some quality family time.
Finally we found our spot on a hill, heard "I'm bored" about a thousand times, and stayed on the grass trying to rest until darkness overtook Smithfield. A few more thousand "I'm bored" declarations later, we finally got to see a few bursts in the night sky…right behind the tree directly blocking our view.
We moved up the hill some more to get a less obstructed view and waited for the grand finale, which only took eleven minutes to hit. The half-priced, day late fireworks display in Smithfield certainly resembled a half off clearance sale display.
Next year I hope to be able to just have the day off, relax, and enjoy the "pretty darn good for a small town" Fourth of July celebration that Selma puts on ever year. Either that or I will have to make a trip to South Carolina for a personal stash of some home spun fun. In the words of Jack Nicholson in the movie "As Good As It Gets", "Good times, noodle salad."
The fireworks I missed:
All American Festival Fireworks - 2010 from Lewis Mullen on Vimeo.
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